Page 123 of Perfect Playbook

Epilogue

FIVE MONTHS LATER

It’s Labor Day weekend,and it’s a scorcher in San Juan Diego, California. After what the Mendez boys have said was a cool August, the sun comes back from its vacation. We are all flapping our t-shirts for air and swiping sweat from under our cowboy hats when we finally tumble into the cool air in Santiago’s house on the Mendez compound, known to their family simply as The Compound.

“No need to take boots off, the cleaner is coming tomorrow,” Santi says, strolling into a gorgeous home of oak-beamed ceilings, boots clicking on travertinetiles.

We all follow him through the cavernous open-plan living room that’s more like an entertainment area with a bar off to one side, huge wraparound sofas, and a pool table. It’s not decorated like a bachelor pad but it has all the toys of one. I remember Santi being quite the wild bad boy, but the place displays no sign of debauchery. Still, I imagine I might find a bra tucked into the crevasses of the couch. Even if he didn’t want them, I saw girls throw more intimate things than panties at him when he used to get in the ring.

But we all grow up, I guess. He seems to have replaced rodeo broncs for thoroughbreds. I can say, after touring The Compound, it’s mighty inspiring what they’ve accomplished, not least of which Santi’s stud stallions.

I lead Shay in by her lower back toward the kitchen. “This place has exceeded my imagination, gentlemen. It’s an impressive plot you have.”

Gabriel leans against the counter in a kitchen that looks as untouched as mine did before Shay moved in.

“Yeah, our first company wasn’t a hit, but we made just enough to get The Compound started. First ten acres was scrubland, but we saw potential.”

“We had the opportunity to bolt on acreage twice over,” Santiago adds. “Luck was definitely involved in being able to stick together the land we have now. It’s a patchwork quilt.”

I mean every word I say. “Well, you had the vision and balls to invest. It was the first time it paid off of many.”

Here, her brothers have over the years created something similar to what my dad set out to do at our ranch, only on our land, it never went further than two houses. The intention of The Compound is akin to the Kennedys’. The guys have five houses here now and morethan enough space for the sixth, should we choose to move here when Nino leaves Longbrook.

Time will tell if we’ll move. It might be an even harder decision if more children are involved. We’ve been trying for a while, and I’m not sure my mom could cope with Ninoanda baby being so far away from her. And, of course, now that Ashton and I both have families, it feels right to be dads together.

But it’s all too much thinking ahead of myself. After the wedding reception, Shay got the birth control removed, and contrary to how I figured it would be, it hasn’t been the one-and-done situation I imagined. Shay had a miscarriage, and I was forever grateful to Sam for helping her talk through it. I understood the pain, hell, I still wonder what could have become of that creation, but I’m not a woman.

We should be beyond it now, but I still worry about what happened a few months back. Was it our age? Could it happen again? Should Shay be working so much? She’s been on fire with her career with features in bridal magazines and delivering multiple cakes every month because she still can’t seem to let go of the control over delivery.

I’m so damn proud of her I could fucking pop, but I do worry about her health.

Luis pulls out a stool at the breakfast bar and plops down. “It’s hotter than a dragon’s ass out there. You told me the summers here would be the same as back home, but it must be triple digits today.”

Shay and Rio share a wary glance.

Luis has weathered almost ten years of arthritis, continuing to work on an unhealthy dose of anti-inflammatories to get by and perform his duties on his ranch. With Shay being set financially now and his sons, too, it’s time he sells upthe ranch, and even though nobody has brought that up directly, every comment Luis makes is a reminder somehow.

Luis will move to The Compound, but even though he agreed willingly, he still finds reasons this small town southeast of Silicon Valley is going to be so much worse than Starlight Canyon. The heat wasn’t his first knock of the day.

Santi grabs a six-pack of beer and another of soda from the fridge and sets them on the counter. I could pour all six of them on my tongue and it still wouldn’t quench my thirst. I open a soda for Nino and hand it to him.

I give Shay a soda, too, before slugging half a bottle of Chimayo with my arm loosely wrapped around my woman’s shoulders.

Santi flicks the top of a beer bottle open with a satisfying sizzle and hands it over to Luis. “There are Indian summers in the Canyon, too. It’s not like you’ve never felt heat before.”

“Yeah,” Luis takes a slug of his beer, “but the mountains cast shade at all the right times.”

Santi is the first to become bored of the criticisms. “We’re not forcing you to move here.”

“I know. I’m just saying…” Luis puts his hands in the air.

I don’t know Rio well yet, but if I have to guess, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t take long for a decision to be made, and when it is, he never looks back.

“Dad, make a list of what you need here, we’ll sort it. You’ll be happy here. The town is friendly, we know people already, and you’ll have the horses, but actual stable hands to do the hard stuff. Isn’t that your dream retirement?”

He flaps his hand, as if swatting off the word retirement.

I get it. People only like that word if they’re leaving work behind. But when your work is your identity, that’sanother thing. I’m lucky to have jumped into something even more significant than hockey with Shay and Nino. I have something bigger than my career, but Luis just has a million question marks before him. And frankly, I hope the boys do give him some time. They all seem like workaholics.

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